Voltron Shiro - Blog Posts
Inspired by the second book in the voltron duality series by @squirenonny
This drawing is honestly one of the best ones I made in ages, I am so proud of it. It literally looks exactly how I pictured it in my head :D
Also did I put matt's knee brace on the wrong leg? Was it even there at that point in the story? Who knows! I'm already halfway into book 3 so I might've mixed some stuff up...
Does anyone else also struggle with finding the perfect pose reference but the model is the wrong body type to the point that you have to Frankenstein the right body type together? It happened 4 times in this drawing TvT
What should I draw next? I'm thinking some klance but we'll see how that goes
Unpopular Opinions(Voltron: LD Edition)
Please respect others’ opinions. Thank you! 😊❤️
*Sorry if any of mine are popular. I don’t talk about my opinions with fandoms since they can be pretty toxic.*
Here are mine:
1. The Shiro clone idea was really bad.
I don't like this idea because the development "Shiro" went through between S3 & 6 did not affect the actual Shiro.
2. Voltron went downhill once Keith replaced Shiro as the leader.
I don't think it is Keith's fault for the show's quality depleting; this is a timeline of when quality decreased. But, I think Shiro was a way better leader than Keith since he has the experience and personality of one. Keith is more of a second-in-command, at least for me.
3. Allura and Lance should have never gotten together.
This ship was all over the place. First Lance had a huge unrequited crush on Allura, then he seemed to be moving on and she was in love with Lotor. The development was rushed near the end, and their chemistry was kind of awkward to me.
4. I wasn’t super upset about Allura’s death. Just the way it was written.
Allura never really connected with me. I really tried to like her as much as most of the main characters, but I couldn't feel it. Her death was sudden and lukewarm, especially the goodbye between her and the Voltron crew. There was this feeling of emptiness in this reunion. The circumstances of why she had to die was meh. It would've been better if the lions sacrificed themselves instead.
5. Klance is very overrated(still kind of ship it tho).
This ship was everywhere, and some Klance shippers I've seen were toxic which turned me off for a while. At first, I felt kind of pressured to like this ship since Klance shippers populated the fandom. Now, I genuinely enjoy the ship, though I wish other ships gained more attention.
6. Shiro’s second arm design was bad.
I loved his first arm and was super upset when the designers did a 180 on the second one. It was so clunky and distracting whenever it was in full view. The detached portion of it was really annoying too.
When it comes to robotic limbs, I want them to look natural with the body.
7. Having so many villains was not a great idea.
I've watched shows with a lot of villains and they mostly put me off since some of them were one-note and generic. I really didn't like when Lotor was the temporary villain; he could've been a great ally for the finale. Honerva was pretty rushed and boring; she would have been better if she was the main villain much longer than two seasons. Zarkon was probably the best one.
8. Compared to villains in general, Honerva wasn’t too bad.
Compared to a lot of villains (especially the minor ones), Honerva is okay. I don't think she was great though. She needed a lot more development and her redemption was so quick.
I didn’t have a lot to say since most of my strong opinions are about the last two seasons and I agree with most of the fans.
What do you guys think? 😊❤️
What Are Your Unpopular Cartoon Opinions(+ Mine)?
1. She-ra is a bit overrated(still appreciate it.)
Don't get me wrong, I deeply appreciate the LGBTQ+ representation in the show, but I can't really get into it. Some of the characters are hard for me to connect with and that is something rewlly important for me when watching a show. Some plot points were really rushed like the entirety of season 3 and the series finale. There were a few characters that kind of annoyed me like Glimmer and Catra.
2. Voltron: Legendary Defender is overrated.
Around the time it was still airing, I heard so many people say it was one of the greatest cartoons of the 2010's and how the writing was amazing. So I watched and imo, it's meh. I just have a lot of problems with the writing like the Lion switch, clone Shiro, and the series finale. Everything felt so rushed.
Though, I love Shiro's backstory(He's amazing!)
3. Steven Universe Future was not a great season.
I was so excited when SUF was announced, hoping that most of all of my unanswered plot points would be answered. Some were, but everything was so rushed. Steven's impending breakdown quickened a bit too much, and stories like Aquamarine & Eyeball's return were added in seemingly without a thought.
The season was also pretty forgettable.
4. Young Justice has lost its charm(still really like it.)
I love Young Justice! It's one of my favorite shows if all time, but I have to admit that it doesn't feel the same way. The charm it had in the first two seasons is not present in the latest one. The characters' relationships are integral to the show and is a reason why the show is loved. Season 3 mostly focused on new characters and most of them don't have development.
I hope Season 4 fixes that.
5. I actually liked Poof being added in FOP.
I've seen so many people say Poof ruined the show, which I disagree with. Poof is not my favorite character, but I find it cute and a good addition to the cast.
6. Rise of TMNT is pretty good.
There have been a lot of people, specifically TMNT fans, saying Rise is awful and a disgrace to the franchise. I respect the show for wanting to do something new since some of them work. It's not my favorite, but I have a fun time watching it when I want to relax.
7. Season 4 of RWBY was pretty good.
Old fans of the web series say the show went downhill during season 4. I say it turned for the worse in season 5.
8. TMNT 2012 April is not a terrible person.
I see this version of April as a character who was tragically poorly-written. She had the potential to be amazing if the writers didn't label her only as a love interest. I went more in depth in one of my earliest posts.
9. Miraculous Ladybug is not as good anymore.
The love square is getting irritating. It made sense going slow since Marinette and Adrien are getting to know each other. Miraculous had also gotten more cringey that it is almost unwatchable.
10. I prefer the newer episodes of Phineas & Ferb over the older ones.
This is more of a perference. I just like the newer episodes, especially after Phineas and Ferb: Across the Second Dimension. I love that movie with all my heart!
The truth is out
Oneshot
The connection with Voltron was horrible the team pointed it out and never picked up on Lance’s lack of response.
Lance saw an oncoming storm and there was something about it. Lance disconnected from Voltron. The team was screaming at him but he ignored them.
Lance felt the world spin and all his feelings would cause the storm to crack and boom. It was worse than something you’d find on earth. The team landed and ran after Lance.
Lance took of his helmet tear falling as he spun and stood in an open field and spun grabbing his head screaming and the team was running after him and the whole storm went inside him and everything was perfect for a tic but when that tic was over Lance sobbed falling onto his hands and knees and the storm was tearing him apart from the inside out learning everything about him and what he held deep inside. The storm went out of him and took the side the team always saw and smiled at Lance who was crying and looked numb.
The figure grabbed Lance’s face, “Now you can’t hide what you bottle up.”
Lance laughed uncontrollably and the figure grew worried, “Stop it this instant.”
Lance sob laughed his head tilted up his jaw wide desperately crying and screaming.
The team ran to Lance and tried to touch him but Lance shuddered and slapped them away.
“Go away!”
Lance got up and the storm tried to get back into Lance and was confused when it couldn’t.
“Sorry storm you took my facade but now that that’s gone I’m occupied.”
Lance bit his lip the storm swirling just as Lance’s mind was racing and the storm reminded Lance of a heartbreaking memory that never fails to make him upset. The way Allura looked at Keith the way she always kinda leaned close to him.
Lance’s eyes grew dark and the figure smiled speaking to Lance, “Common Lance let it go and let loose they’ve wronged you give them their precious reward.”
Lance smiled tears falling and stood tall, “You know what?”
The figure smiled, “Yes?”
Lance chuckled, “You’re just a voice I already hear it’s more annoying than anything I’ve ever ignored. The voices now are just a nice loud slap in the face. Maybe you are right after all these years of fighting it I should just give in and do it.”
The figure smiled and Lance summoned out his Bayard and aimed it at himself. Hunk tackled Lance and Lance screamed the storm struck Hunk violently and Pidge fought back. Lance pulled out a bottle and chugged the contents and threw them at the ground and started running. The team followed him screaming at him. The storm went away as Lance slowly died.
Lance knew any moment he would drop dead and kept running then it happened he ran and felt his breathing slow and the corners of his vision grow black and his legs gave out and just like that he blacked out after that.
The group refused to accept Lance was gone and kept him in the pod. Lance fell out and didn’t budge and laid there.
Pidge tapped Lance and then soon checked for a pulse and got nothing.
Keith being cheesy thought about true loves kiss and deeply kissed Lance. He felt Lance’s lips were cold and he never knew he was crying but felt a tiny shaky breath escape from Lance.
Keith gasped as he pulled away looking at Lance.
Lance quickly gasped as he shot up coughing like crazy. Keith looked shook as fuck and touched his lips.
It worked?
Lance looked horrified and looked at his hands and rubbed his face. He looked slightly shocked he was there and looked at the face right by his. Keith’s.
Lance’s eyes narrowed and he got up and started walking out. Shiro raised a brow looking at Keith as if the look said what the fuck.
Keith ran after Lance. Lance ignored every comment Keith stated and Lance snapped.
“Oh I’m sorry the person I like is in love with someone else!”
Keith frowned, “Allura doesn’t even like me!”
Lance scoffed, “That’s not the person I’m worried about.”
Keith froze and Lance turned around and sped off Keith grabbed Lance’s arm, “Wait you like me?”
Lance had tears falling, “Jesus chri- Yes Keith I like you!”
Keith grabbed Lance’s collar tilting Lance’s head up and kissed him roughly obviously inexperienced other than when he kissed Lance who was dead at the time. Lance shocked slowly kissed back wrapping his arms around Keith now had warm lips a soft expression decorated on his face.
Keith pulled back from Lance who was breathless, “I love you Lance, but next time remember I don’t even like girls.”
Lance smiled and sighed with relief still scoffing at Keith’s remark, “I love you too Keith.”
Keith dipped Lance and kissed him again.
Sure Lance’s depression, and suicidal tendencies wouldn’t go unspoken. Yet now he had some stability, maybe he’ll learn love isn’t dead. Maybe he’ll learn life is worth living.
Man Lance was in deep.
Langst - a locked door
Just some langst one shot
Lance had been going without his antidepressants as he left them on earth.
Each day was worse than the last but of course
He’d never admit to such a thing
His mind was his enemy, no one did but if you looked close enough you’d see his eyes dull the smallest but every single day. His smiles became fake but they slowly faded along with his jokes and trying to flirt with people. They never picked up on his laughs as they were only there cause if he didn’t they would be loud unbearable sobs.
I mean hey the one time he cried it was a joke.
Yeah, a joke.
Lance would always say that to himself that he was a joke and people better than him were the easiest thing to find. He wasn’t important... he was irrelevant... invalid... unnecessary.
They had a team bonding exercises and it was no longer Pidge who had troubles opening up rather Lance.
The group shouted at him as he blurred it out he was very good at that. Just as Pidge did slammed it on the ground but ran off for the rest of the day.
No one followed
no one cared to ask
Nothing
Lance was fine with that he wasn’t surprised that no one cared maybe he should make it easy and kill himself. Take his Bayard and shot and/or stab himself or let a bot kill him.
Lance frowned thinking no in my room I don’t want to have the change someone finds me and puts me in a healing pod... they’d think it would be a waste of time...
Little did Lance know he was the support of the group to hold them up for support.
Also the defense, he protected them as much as he could from the outside world.
He agreed with the gods that yes this was a hell that managed to pick him. Him to be the one who suffers from anxiety, depression, and some things he can even begin to explain. He shuddered at the idea of having his medicine, he yearned for them. For him to feel it coarse through his body and make his feel numb. He’d rather be numb than sad he decided. Being numb made it easier to fake the happiness than the darkness from depression making a smile almost unbearable let alone a laugh.
The others were discussing with Kolivan and Keith when Keith finally asked, “Where’s Lance?”
Pidge fixed her glasses, “He stormed out during training today and haven’t seen him since.”
Kolivan must have felt Keith worries, “And you didn’t speak to him, you need him here if you want to go through with this plan.”
Allura fixed her crown, “That isn’t necessary.”
Hunk looked over wanting to interject but his own doubt has been consuming him as Lance hasn’t been around long enough for Hunk to be comforted.
Pidge and Shiro’s stress has been taking a toll on them as Lance hasn’t been around to reassure them and make sure they know everything will be alright.
Matt’s loneliness even though he had Katie took over as he felt slightly at a loss for no apparent reason and hasn’t been able to hear from Lance about how it’s okay not to have a reason and the feeling is normal and it’ll all be okay.
Allura’s homesickness was no longer an issue as she had Lotor to cling too and the team slightly found her statement rude but none had the strength to do so.
Coran was worried for the boy but as he was for the longest bit Allura’s guardian he never went against her word.
Keith was terrified of Lance, he’s seen Lances vulnerable side but that wasn’t even a bit of it, Lance inside was a number 5 hurricane maybe even 6.
But in the end, it didn’t matter Lance wasn’t checked on.
Kolivan sighed, “Very well.”
Keith wanted to flick Allura off or go for herself when he looked at Hunk who was looking at Keith.
Lance was in his room putting through his plan and didn’t know so he shrugged and pulled out his Bayard.
He thought everything will be fine Allura has blue Keith could take red Shiro would have black Hunk would have yellow and Pidge would have green.
Nothing was wrong.
Nothing was ever wrong.
-SELF HARM & SUICIDE MENTIONS BELOW-
Lance sharply inhaled as he threw it at the wall and then went to the bathroom.
Lance violently threw things around as he started the water turning the cold on high and plugged it. Lance threw stuff around shoving all of his beauty routine supplies in the trash and destroyed everything letting his eyes land on a box. He swallowed at the lump in his through the familiar shiny sharp pieces of metal, some with blood crusted on the edges. He never told anyone as he slyly paid for them and hid them in his pocket. Lance rather set those aside and felt into his pocket and smiled as an inviting sting jolted up his arm when his thumb pressed onto the blade the outer layer of skin completely cut through.
He pressed forward slightly screaming as it hit the bone.
He huffed as it was pained and heard drips of blood fall from his jacket pocket.
Lance ripped out the blade hitting his teeth scared they may break.
The others thought they heard a scream but dismissed it as if they were just paranoid.
Lance was thankful but little did he know the others were discussing whether they should check on him or not.
Lance looked at the bath for a good couple of minutes, “This is it... it’ll soon be over.”
The mice had a bad feeling and hurried off to Hunk or Pidge or Matt people that could try and listen.
Lance without taking off any clothing slowly sank into the tub not taking notice it was seconds from overflowing but nothing was plugged in and no cords were near the ground so no shocking would take place.
Lance didn’t cry he looked happy as he took the blade with a shaky hand. He couldn’t feel his face as he was numb but he picked up on drips of water that fell and knew wasn’t from the water being brought into the tub and pressed a hand to his face and couldn’t pick up any feeling.
He pulled up his sleeves and slowly pressed down and closed his eyes and slammed it down into his wrists causing them to bleed like crazy Lance let out a scream that was dismissed again but the mice moved quicker with that.
Kolivan and Keith we’re heading to the castle for further discussion on the grand meeting.
They arrived when the mice reached the team and went to Pidge and she dismissed them until they got to Hunk and Matt.
Hunk always felt Lance was hiding something and nodded Matt along with Hunk bolted for Lance room passing Keith and Kolivan in their way. Keith and Kolivan exchanged a look that was extremely unsettling by the speed of the two that passed.
Lance stuck his other arm and screamed and ripped it out continuing until he felt the corners of his vision grow blurry and black and faded. He felt his body sink into the ice-cold water and the air rush out of his lungs but never really needed to go back in.
Light red water covered the floor running out of the bathroom now through Lance’s room under the crack of his door into the hallway.
Hunk screamed, “Lance open the door right now!”
Matt banged on the door as more water flowed out, “Lance! Come on this isn’t funny!”
The two sounded desperate Pidge scurried over to the door hacking it open as she had her laptop. The bottom of Lance’s floor was covered in 2 inches of water with a pink tint to it. It reeked and little did they know what laid in the bathroom would be the cause of it.
Pidge screamed in horror when she spotted Lance.
Hunk pulled Lance’s head from under the water and didn’t catch a pulse and started to perform CPR.
Matt ran down the halls Pidge screaming to get a pod ready and Matt screaming for the help of the others.
Hunk got Lance’s pulse but Lance never coughed as he never took in water his nose had been poking out of the water but was severely bleeding out. The sight of Lance’s arms and wrists made Hunk wince and gag.
The other feet were thumping through the halls and Hunk was running a pretty much dead Lance in his arms. A tiny strip of blood dripping from Lance’s arms constantly leaving a pretty much-filled line of blood. Keith now ahead of Hunk he willed his body to move faster. And it stopped when he saw Hunk turn the corner and ran right in front of Keith heading to the pods and the line of blood that followed Hunk made the others freeze but Matt kept running as his body went into overdrive.
Hunk was wheezing as he ran his orange headband flying behind him as he ran. The others never have seen him move faster. Pidge was waiting, “It’s ready! Get him in here now!”
They never had the time to change him he was in soaked clothing everything slightly pink now and his sleeves completely stained red.
It kept dripping and when Hunk shoved Lance in Lance’s body floated motionlessly.
Hunk sank to the ground in loud sobs and the others stood there motionless as well.
Thoughts raced through their heads;
Why didn’t Lance tell us?
We’re the worst team ever.
Why would Lance do that?
It’s all my fault.
How could we not have noticed?
Why did I yell at him?
Why didn’t I ask him if he was okay?
Why didn’t I care?
The thoughts swirled through their heads relentlessly.
Yet that’s funny as they’ll know how Lance’s mind was, but so much worse it was basically all the natural disasters in the world put together. Letting Lance take a spiraling path that no one cared to intercept.
A beautifully horrifying mess that destroyed Lance as if he were a domino forced to crash along with everything else collapsing leading to him.
Lance’s bleeding continued as his blood was dripping through his clothes slowing down sad thing is, is it wasn’t because he was healing his body couldn’t put forth the energy. His pulse is slow but slowly speeding up again.
A week passed and no one has left except Kolivan, Keith stayed and left the BOM. Lance was his teammate and so much more and Keith became Lance’s stability and Lance was him but Keith left probably ruining the bond they created. Yet he will try his best.
They had no idea how’d Lance would feel when he got out... but they all knew Lance would never be the same.
His cuts so deep they healed but the skin never reattach and he was thin. Way too thin. His eyes had dark bags underneath them and he was still floating.
The pod opened everyone’s hearts in their throat. Lance opened his eyes and they were full no source of happiness in his features whatsoever and blinked slowly inhumanly and breathed shallowly. He stood up tugging away from anyone who touched him pissed he was alive, pissed his suicide attempt failed maybe he should have stabbed himself in the chest that would have been easier. Lance tugged away from Hunk snapping knowing Hunk was probably the one who saved him.
His words shook them all.
“I didn’t want your help! I don’t want to be here! I want to be dead! This is insanity... this is fucking great! I support you I was there for all of you! Whenever you were moody or sad or upset I comfort you guys... I made sure you were okay!”
Lance coughed and then continued, “Now... I want you all to know... This is who I am. This is your annoying too loud too flirty lover-boy goofball Lance!” Lance spoke with so much hatred for himself.
“I don’t want to hear it all your lies, cause god knows none of you cared! And some of you shock me to this very moment. I tried and tried and tried and I tried some more, but when all your stuck up asses are to busy thinking of what you want I cared I listened!”
Lance sobbed sinking to the ground and they all know now Lance is never coming back. This is the broken mess they created. Oh god. They caused that.
Slowly they all felt tears fall, they all held Lance, no one spoke, he didn’t fight back, no one spoke. The void was filled with warm hugs and shaky breaths, silent sobs, and a screaming voice inside.
What now?
Feeling guilty
I don't know but I feel bad for shipping Shance when Shiro literally had (has?) a fiancé on earth... I'm like, "he's probably still in love with Adam... He's definitely still in love with Adam." But then it changes to, "I still ship Shance! Adam's probably in the past." Like, nothing can get in the way of Shance! Shance all the way!
I mean, I don't know if I should just ship what I like to ship or just slowly back away... To be honest, I might join some of the others and just ship Lance with Shiro and Adam.
Rant Ahead
What really annoys me is that I love Voltron but the fucking fandom is so fucking toxic. Like, people who ship one ship would start shit with people who ship another. I seriously don't understand why people are acting like this, some of these people are in their teens and are acting like fucking five year-old. And that's an insult to five year-olds cause I work with them and they are nothing like that. I literally don't mind what ships other people ship, it's not going to harm me when they say who they bloody ship together, they can express who they ship and don't ship.
If you don't like that ship then you can kindly tell them instead of making a massive thing over it like it's the end of the fucking world. Just because the character you ship with is in the same ship as theirs. I saw a post on Instagram where someone received a DM from this person shipping Sheith. Telling them that Klance will never happen and that it's not canon king, and never will be. I don't know if I misheard but didn't Shiro say Keith was like a brother to him in the recent season?
I understand that people will ship those two together still and I encourage it but why the need to going into a Klance shipper's DM and harrass them over their ship? I'm actually asking why some shipper's need to act in such a manner just because some people ship two characters together that they don't ship.
Sorry for my rant but thanks for reading.
Long hair Shiro doodles
If you'd like to reblog/repost, please give me credit! Thank you!
Me: *watches the official trailer to season 3*
Me:
Something I’ve been working on for a while now…
I made this for a AU I planned…probably gonna post more later idk lmao
I was busy thinking 'bout boys♡~
LAUGH!!!!
Wanna be yours
I wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathing in your dust. I wanna be your Ford Cortina, I will never rust. If you like your coffee hot. Let me be your coffee pot. You call the shots babe, I just wanna be yours
Secrets I have held in my heart. Are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours.
Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours
Let me be your 'leccy meter and I'll never run out. And let me be the portable heater, that you'll get cold without. I wanna be your setting lotion (I wanna be)Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?)
At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean, I wanna be yours.
Wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys
Day 24, mistletoe (I have no idea if that's how it's written)
I made this yesterday, idk what else to say, enjoy.
Wanted to show ya this drawing and doodles i made of Shiro! I also posted it on my insta ashs_wasnthere if You wanna check it there too
IT'S KEITH'S BIRTHDAY (where I live)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH
If these are yours, let me know and I'll credit you ^-^
Credit:
@keithkogayne
Pt.4 of Keith, Shiro, and Adam's relationship :)
(Let me know if any of these belong to y'all, I'll tag who I can)
@xfifiartstuffx20
@a-zzurra-blog
thinking ab rewatching Voltron, not because it’s good, but because I’m gay and I miss Keith
It's July 28th (for most people, not me but :P) which means it is Lance McClain's birthday!!! 😭💙
Credit to artists and original posters. (I'll tag who I can)
@frogparty
@incorrect-fandoms
@star-lance
Part. 3 of Keith, Shiro, and Adam's relationship
If any more of these are yours lmk and I'll tag you :)
@star-lance
@azphen
Pt.2 of Keith, Shiro, and Adam's relationship
If any of these are yours, lmk and I'll tag you :)
Credit (for those that still have usernames attached) to:
@incorrect-adashi-quotes
@genocidal
@shiro-centric
@validslav
Pt.1 Of Keith, Shiro, and Adam's relationship
If any of these are yours lmk and I'll tag you :)
Shiro, championed.
He is a tale, he knows. But he doesn't feel like one, he is way too roomless, way too thoughtless, only a tablespoonful of a something.
The tale should be fractured, he thinks. It shouldn't be about victory, it should avoid being this spurious. It should have stones. Bricks. Maximal damage. Minimal effort. He wonders if pain should bring him clarity. Yes; the tale can have this too. How creaturely he feels when in pain.
He is on his stomach, the cheek on the table half closing his eye. They have taken his spinal fluid again.
''Don't you have this already?'' he asks, voice unsmooth, the heavy door creak of it. ''You've taken it yesterday.''
They look surprised. They say something in a language he doesn't know, and don't do anything. Not anything in response to what he said.
He looks at the suited figures, feeling himself hazing. He wonders if he has missed some essence of their subjectivity – he has only been thinking of them in a plural way. Do they hesitate? Do they worry? Feel individual things? Maybe pluralising them is unjust. But then his mind clears up one more time: he will wake up in one of the small square rooms, where he has been waking up lately. Roomlessly, thoughtlessly, creaturely.
*
He has been having recurring daydreams. And wanting, recurringly, in a compromising way, in the way of wanting being his single antibody.
*
Four years from now, Shiro will watch coffee grounds swish around his french press. He will feel content at the uneventfulness of it, and call it laziness, call it something slow and nice, like a sleepy cat.
''That's fine,'' Someone will say, ''more attention to a french press than to me. That's fine.''
Shiro will walk around the counter and plop down into the couch. He will move uncaringly. He will move caringly in the right way.
''My cushion balance,'' Someone will complain. ''You disbalanced me.''
''It doesn't bother you,'' Shiro will say.
''It doesn't,'' they will admit immediately. Then, tone joking: ''I just think it's funny that—'' They will smile, with mouth corners turned downwards.
Shiro will nod a little at the joke, then scoot closer, with one leg over their legs. He will cover their eyes with his palms. Then breathe. Get close. Hover close. Breathe into their jaw.
A hand will tangle in his hair. It will make him feel wild with possibility; some tangled nerves pulled separate into their fitting paths, re-sparking. He will feel lightheaded, but not in a dizzying way. In a love way, perhaps.
''I was joking. It wasn't funny,'' Someone will murmur to clarify, opening the palm in Shiro's hair, then closing it again, tugging at Shiro's content. Shiro will make a mhm sound, the vibration of it, and place his closed lips to the corner of their mouth. He will wonder if it's expectation alone that sustains him, feeling both their breaths do billowy things on his eyelids. It would be understandable, he will think, consistent: sometimes he takes a single sip of coffee and it makes him feel much better immediately. He shakes hands with placebo.
''My heart,'' Someone will say, whispery and squealy – good, like dying for a good cause. Moving lips to talk will make them kiss; make them kissed, make them the passive subjects of kissing.
*
They don’t talk back to him.
''You don’t talk back to me,'' he says, and thinks he sounds pleasantly non-accusatory. They talk to each other, he knows. He wonders if this is his humble sacrifice for humanity, if humanity, thanks to him, knows about aliens, if it has gone father than ever before. If that guy whose video he watched got to walk on Europa, if the icy surface really did creak underneath his feet, if he really could hear it cracking, tidally stretching, when he placed his head to the surface.
Maybe he should be living mindfully, now. Maybe this will uncatastrophise his life.
He thinks about his perceptions. He feels thirsty. Maybe dehydration will hit the pacemaking cells of his heart and he will die. He focuses. He watches things that glisten. His knuckles are cold and his heart feels warm. A warm creature that bites. He thinks he shouldn't call himself warm-hearted. It's wrong. This is wrong.
*
Four years from now, Shiro will place his hand over Someone's chest.
''Your heart. My eyes, if only you could see what I'm seeing. My heart. My lungs. My spleen'' Shiro will say, and Someone will hook their arms under Shiro's, fingers pressing onto the muscle on his shoulders, and it will feel nice, and Shiro won't mind leaving his thoughts somewhat unfinished. Now his lips will be pressed on their cheek under the uncovered eye.
He will remain motionless, to see is something will boil. To explore the peculiar properties of the two of them. Eyes closed, he will feel their breathing faster than it was. He will feel good about that.
''I could start hiccupping from the emotional stress,'' Someone will whisper, hooking arms around Shiro's body, hooking and not snaking, expressing some crushing liking. Their flirting won't snake, serpent-like.
''No stress allowed,'' Shiro will whisper back.
*
Maybe he is wrong and he'd rather be less present. Daydream more. He has been having a recurring daydream.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387220
Lance doesn't lower the rifle.
Maybe it's because he joined the army late that he tries to think it a yet – doesn't lower it yet.
The soldier is crouched by the sandbag mount, on their side of the mount, the exposed side. Lance was alarmed at first sight; thought a scatter of things at once: theft attempt, attack? Desperation, dying? Lance has become micro-attuned to helmet colours. He saw the alarm of bronze. The soldier removes his face clothing. Breathes through the mouth. His arm slips from his knee to the ground. His other arm is missing.
''I don't feel so good,'' the soldier says. He sounds somewhat apologetic. Is this war conduct, Lance thinks. The soldier seems impossible, like stygian blue. The red around his missing arm seems self-luminous.
Lance has his hands adjusting his grip. It's so quiet around them. Snowflakes drift lightly onto the barrel of his rifle. The sky is white and slow and soft. It's so quiet.
''I don't know,'' the soldier says. He's blinking rapidly at the ground. Shifts his weight like he wants to sit down. Lance likes how his German sounds.
''Aren't you—'' scared, Lance despairs. Of me? Of war? ''Scared,'' he finishes.
''Yeah,'' the soldier says. Like it's an allowed simplicity, to say it like that. ''I don't feel so hot.''
''Is this wordplay,'' Lance asks, horrified, ''do you think you're funny? You look like shit. Soldier.''
''Yeah,'' he says, to something. ''Shiro.''
It takes Lance time to realise this is a name. But now he can't unname the soldier. Now all the circumstantial parts are named; hair clumped to his forehead under the helmet frozen white: Shiro; the knot of the tied sleeve where an arm is missing, hitting Lance's stomach wrongly: Shiro.
The air inside Lance is whirling. The air in his tiny air sacs has been whirling lately, and it is now, but differently, Lance knows. More breezily. It has been somewhat abstract, but now he is winded. Now it is personal. Lately, he has been dreaming he hates himself, and he has been waking up, thinking: but I don't.
Sometimes his chest blooms, or turns into something with a low boiling point, or turns into octopus ink; and he thinks he is grieving himself.
Which must be self-absorbed. He is on the side of alive, and has both arms. Maybe it's because he joined the army late, but he doesn't know how he could offset the death of something with a name.
''Don't just give me your name,'' he says. The soldier moves his legs from under himself, instead folding into something seated, leaning back on the sandbags. He has seated his momentum. He moves his jaw. Like something relaxing, or something in pain, or something defunct.
''I don’t think it matters now,'' the soldier says.
''It matters,'' Lance says. Says immediately; he feels very immediately.
''Want to see my picture, too?'' The soldier fumbles through his jacket. All right, Lance realises, then re-realises: wait. This might be too much to know. Lance shakes his head. Lance shakes his head but goes despite himself, thinking, you don't feel like a target? You feel like a human shield.
The soldier pulls a photo from an inside pocket. On the photo, the soldier isn't dressed like a soldier, and looks very clean, standing by someone shorter, wilder, messier, their arms thrown over each other's shoulders. The image is blurry, but the soldier's eyes seem strangely defined. They seem strangely defined now, too.
''Love the blur of you,'' Lance says.
''Thanks.''
Lance feels himself nodding at the picture, like a body on a spring. Maybe he is nodding to stall, to drag out his indecision. He needs to think. If Lance doesn't shoot, that's Shiro winning rightfully, isn't it? It's survival by selection, successful.
''Did you treat it?'' he asks, and the soldier looks confused, so Lance nods in the direction of his arm. He realises his rifle is waist-high and lowers it to treat the dissonance.
The soldier falls into a coughing fit, which turns into a thing with no sound, just spasming. Snowflakes are drifting. It's so quiet. The soldier lifts his hand towards the missing arm, then halts the motion with the back of his hand to his mouth. Lance imagines they swallow simultaneously.
''Like this. But I think it would extend my shelf life. If it were better.''
Lance is afraid he won't say anything. Lance has been not knowing what to say, leaving him with the spice of depersonalisation. Sometimes he still hates the human silences in which he is forced to live. Them make him feel spindly. Now they are less miserable, less of a crisis. He handcrafts a lack of a self, and now he's handcrafting a silence.
''My hand. Fingers. I can't f—'' the soldier starts coughing again. Leans his head back. It's quiet again. It's been quiet for days. It's even quieter tonight. This is the first time in the month Lance has been in the barren Isonzo highlands without a snowstorm's loudness. He has gotten used to them. To all the noise. He has been falling asleep over cannon shots. He recognises missiles by sound: calibre 152 whistles; calibre 75 creaks; calibre 305 howls.
''Where's your base? Unit?'' Lance wonders if the soldier could be a spy. He is so undefensive, though. His face shapes into something knowing and tender and seeing Lance. Lance sees it: the soldier won't tell. Lance imagines a hostage situation, then unscrews it from himself like something rusty and illness-causing.
''What's with—'' the soldier starts, but trails off, and Lance interrupts with the same wording, on some strange but fierce and untamed instinct.
''What's with your shelf life? Freezing won't increase it.''
''No. Maybe I'm recyclable?'' the soldier says. Now it's evident that moving his face is difficult, some orchestration undercooled. Lance doesn't really see the relevance. The soldier says this with no grief. Some grief? What does grief look like? Lance imagines himself on a timeline. He imagines that in a hundred years someone will be swimming in the lowland river under an arch of rocks and see his helmet, washed with rain and time from the highlands, then caught in between two rocks, in between something unmovable under the force of things that move slowly but ferally.
But he is in the now. He rests his rifle against the sandbag wall, feeling the soldier's eyes track him. He pulls the glove off his left hand, and throws it, aiming for lightly, at the soldier. The soldier's face furrows, a little, but Lance is delicately attuned. The soldier is trying to pull his wet glove off with his teeth. It's slow and looks uncomfortable. Suddenly, Lance is angry at discomfort. He sinks to his knees and crawls to the soldier. He holds the soldier's arm, while the soldier is out of breath. It feels like giving in, like a decision making itself; he's pulling the soldier's glove of, finger by finger, the way it goes; he's pulling the soldier's glove of worrying: am I doing this too slowly?
Peripherally, he sees the soldier watching his face. One time, Lance's sister said to him: you are in my emotional space. Now Lance thinks: you are up my aorta!
I know you don't know what to do, the soldier's eyes say. I know you know that, Lance's say back.
This silence doesn't feel miserable. It feels a little unreal, like windless snow, like the faraway quiet. It feels a little awkward. Lance backs away, maybe out of the soldier's emotional space, and crouches, hands on the ground. His left hand is painfully cold. Good. This isn't awkward, the soldier is ferociously unwell.
The soldier has looked away. Into nothing, squinting strangely. Time passes, and Lance lets it. Lance watches it. He starts squinting at the soldier, until he notices, blinking like head-clearing.
''Do you ever look at afterimages?'' the soldier asks, hazedly, obscured with a veil of dreaminess. Or maybe this is terminal tranquillity.
Lance's bughotel mind is lagging. ''What?''
''Spots,'' the soldier says. ''After.''
''After what,'' Lance asks.
''Images. Colours. Something dark in the snow.''
Images; Lance recalls the pocket photo. The blur of Shiro. Images, colours, something dark in the snow. Lance likes this. He likes triads, he thinks. Stone, mist, hair undoing. Salt, ferocity. Something.
''Shiro. Shiro?'' Lance calls. Shiro pulls his legs closer to himself. Snowflakes are drifting, the dusk is white and light with snow. A film of snow is covering Shiro's shoulders.
Freezing unthinking; unworded observations; undoings. Lance decides, then, with determination he doesn't have, or maybe, after all, the determination he has: he knows the next step, and it's undoing the freezing unthinking. His cavern is his, too, after all. He can go inside. He will bring Shiro inside.
This is how they go: Lance is holding his rifle in one hand, relaxed at his side, a just-in-case, a warning, the other arm in the air and open. Shiro is breathing behind him. Lance opens the door, slowly, tactically. Like an ambush?
''Alright, now,'' Lance starts.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092113
@ilgaksu, i too am kicking at the darkness
''Stop looking at me,'' Lance says, decisively not looking back at Shiro. He gets Pidge out of his range, but she steps back in and jabs him in the face with a pad.
He is not expecting a response. Shiro will give one, but Lance doesn't mind. He doesn't mind, and calls himself a self-liar, hyphenated. He calls himself a liar like a cheerful punch. Gotta have a relationship with yourself.
''Good,'' Shiro says, arms folded, at ease, barefoot. Barefoot. A walking exposed nerve – and assured. Hell. ''You can twist your foot when you knee.''
What a cliché, what a fucking cliché. I'd still hear – say something like, I'd choose you twice, a cliché like that, and watch m—
''You twist your foot when you knee,'' Lance mutters, steps back in defense, too far. Into the pretense of safety.
''Mhm,'' Pidge glances at Shiro, and starts circling around Lance, ''head transparency.''
This is the opposite of losing oneself in a crowd. This is self-awareness you don't know what to do with. Counting your steps on accident. Singled out by himself.
''Okay,'' Lance says, ''okay, break time, Pidge. Go go. I'm going.'' This feeling is so him, quintessentially, that he could personalise words for it.
Shiro's arms are folded, at ease, and he's too still be a this distracting. He's smiling. ''You're walking on your tiptoes.''
Lance steps down fully, stepping backward. Don't hide.
''I'm not,'' Lance says, wholly grounded.
''I didn't say anything, muffin.'' Shiro is smiling.
Right there. Right here. Lance's brain screams faux offense, take take, and it screams you choose muffin, and it screams are you making fun?
Oh, Lance is intrigued. People aren't just distractions. They shape what you look at and you fall into piece-by-piece reappraisal. People are really fucking powerful.
Lance's mind is screaming: be serious, I'm serious.
He is distracted, and he likes it.
''Stop looking at me,'' Lance says.
(shiro watches lance train)
A crack, then another, and Shiro thinks, is that what electrocution feels like?
''Shiro,'' Lance breathes, shaken.
